Forces of Nature
by freerangeegghead
Summary: In which, the long way back home to each other is a long, slow, painful process. Part 6 of Loop/Space/Learning/Opus/Regarding verse. Occurs after "Regarding Rachel". Family, friendship, feelings, fluff, fun (maybe), femslash. PEZBERRY
1. Chapter 1

**_Forces of Nature_**

**_Summary: In which, the long way back home to each other is a long, slow, painful process. Part 6 of Loop/Space/Learning/Opus/Regarding verse. Occurs after "Regarding Rachel". Family, friendship, feelings, fluff, fun (maybe), femslash_**

**_Characters: Rachel, Santana_**

**_Spoilers: Slightly A/U, as with the others, with mentions of canon (seasons 1-present)_**

**_Inspirations: Lots of movies. Too many to mention. Points for you as always if you spot 'em._**

**_Thanks to: Kickangel._**

**_Warnings: There will be femslash and adult themes - language and intimate situations. There will be no smut. There will be plot and a story. It might get boring. You have been warned. Read at your own risk._**

**_A/N: This is for kickangel, kutee, aviran, pictureofsuccess and all the other readers who stuck by this verse. Also, dragonswillfly. You are missed. Thanks for reading and reviewing._**

**_Rating: T ~ M. Will vary from chapter to chapter. Mature readers only._**

**_Disclaimer: Nothing owned, nothing gained. Awesomeness all mine. Or ours. _**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 1<strong>

**_Without music, life would be a mistake._**

**_-Friedrich Nietzche_**

Rachel Berry sits nervously in front of Dr. Steinberg, uncomprehending. She can see Dr. Steinberg's mouth moving, her face looking understanding, her voice soothing, calm and low, but for the life of her, she cannot seem to understand what the doctor is saying.

"I'm sorry, what?" she manages to ask finally, in the silence that precedes Dr. Steinberg's explanation of her medical test results, choking on the lump that has formed in her throat.

"There's a lump in your throat. It's probably not cancerous, probably benign, but we'll never be sure until we have a biopsy. And you've got nodes," Dr. Steinberg repeats patiently, briskly. "Vocal nodules..."

"I know what they are," Rachel cuts in impatiently before Dr. Steinberg launches into yet another explanation of what vocal nodules are.

Dr. Steinberg nods and says, "You can keep them, but the pain and discomfort won't go away. It probably might keep pushing against your windpipe, and make it difficult for you to speak or even sing. But if we take them out, you won't be able to sing above a 'G'...actually, you probably won't be able to sing ever again..."

The doctor continues with her explanation, talking about surgeries, preparation, medication and recovery. She hears the doctor ask about insurance, schedules and surgical procedures, but try as she might Rachel has already tuned her out, finding herself looking out of the large window, which gave her a good view of the New York skyline above its skycrapers.

She had really hoped that it wouldn't come to this.

She'd started experiencing the pains recently. She'd noticed the small, hard lump in her throat came after. She'd put off going to Dr. Steinberg until the pain and discomfort had turned unbearable until she'd finally made the appointment with the doctor. She'd taken a battery of tests, the works – Dr. Steinberg was pretty thorough like that, and she'd waited a few days until the test results came back and Dr. Steinberg had called her back for it.

She'd spent the better part of the morning, riding the subway, walking the streets of Manhattan on her way to the doctor's clinic, convincing herself it was probably just nothing, perhaps just another consequence of hitting middle age, of her body reminding her it isn't young anymore and she needs to take a break. By the time she arrived at the clinic, she'd been able to persuade herself that she is a perfectly healthy, middle-aged woman.

But as she sat on the leather couch flipping through an old Time magazine, trying to concentrate on article about how the word "feminist" should be retired already because it's been too overused, she finds herself unable to register the writer's arguments and had ended up tossing the magazine back on the table. As the minutes ticked by, Rachel had sat there, feeling restless and growing nervous and anxious by the second and she starts to clasp and unclasp her hands, starts to bite her lower lip in anticipation of what's to come, and begins to rock back and forth. When another client had looked at her in curiosity and exasperation, she had glared back and tried to sit still.

She remembers wondering what was taking her doctor so long? She'd gone to her as soon as she'd started feeling pain and though the doctor had been very positive and optimistic but the longer she kept Rachel waiting the more nervous and anxious she is feeling. She had grabbed another magazine, this time a Cosmopolitan magazine, which, according to Sam Evans, is some kind of bible for personal relationships (or is that Sports Illustrated?) and she'd tried to read one of their articles on how to please one's partner, but after a set of ridiculous tips that involved mangoes, doughnuts, cinnamon and beer, she'd dropped the magazine down on the table as well, as much with disgust as with her own growing interest in the subject. For the nth time, she had wished she'd told Santana about her doctor's appointment so she wouldn't be alone here, fretting and growing nervous about her test results. But ever since she had gotten her memories back, she and Santana hadn't seemed to be on the same page. Sure, they'd both moved back to their house in Brooklyn, but they hadn't been sharing a bed since then – Santana seemed to prefer Suzie's old room. Lately, Santana had grown even more and more distant and the things they used to do when they were younger – date night, movie night, and so on, had ceased. They rarely had dinner together – Santana busy with being a legal consultant and lawyer, Rachel busy with Broadway and her recording career and even if they did have dinner together, the conversation always felt awkward and stilted somehow, as if they were a couple pretending to be one, rather than be the actual couple they were. She misses the old days. She misses Santana. She cannot even begin to imagine how they could go back to the way they were. Months after the accident and getting her memories back, they are still divorced, essentially living like best friends in Brooklyn. She stops. Best friends. That's what they are. They're best friends. This depresses her.

"Miss Berry? Are you alright?" Dr. Steinberg's voice cuts through her reverie.

She takes her eyes off the blue skies outside the clinic's office and looks at Dr. Steinberg. She tries a brave smile, feeling her eyes turn watery at the effort. "I'm fine," she says, voice breaking. "Really."

Dr. Steinberg nods, unconvinced, but years of experience tell her prudence would probably be a better way of dealing with this patient, so she smiles and says, "Shall we schedule you for a surgery?" When Rachel nods back, Dr. Steinberg calls her secretary up and asks her to schedule Rachel for a surgery.

"Do you..." Rachel hesitates before she continues. "Mind scheduling it for...after a few weeks? I think I need to take a moment before...you know..."

Dr. Steinberg smiles in understanding. "Of course. But let's not delay it too long, alright? I'm concerned about that lump in your throat..."

"Alright."

As Dr. Steinberg continues to talk about what the arrangements Rachel needs to do for her surgery, Rachel slips back into herself again, fighting the urge to cry.

She'll never be able to sing again.

* * *

><p>She makes her way back to Brooklyn on the subway. She'd have preferred to take the taxi, but she had wanted to take the subway instead.<p>

She watches everyone on the subway – the business execs in their expensive suits, the students, the bike messengers, the police officers, the homeless, the many other people who've taken the subway on this autumn day. Watching ordinary life pass her by, she feels strange, knowing the world has gone on, even as she has a personal crises in her life.

But then she receives a phone call from her father.

"Hello? Dad?"

"Uh, hi, sweetie, how are you?" Hiram, her father greets her, in characteristic fashion.

"Hey, what's up?" she asks, smiling into the phone, trying to be heard above the noise of the subway and people around her.

"I've...something to tell you," Hiram starts, before stopping.

"What?"

"You...need to come home."

"Okay. What's wrong? Is everything okay? What's going on?" she asks, remembering the time when her father Leroy had been sick.

"It's...your father."

"What about dad?" she asks then, feeling a sense of fear grip her tightly around the chest. "What's wrong? Is he okay?"

"He...uh..." Hiram begins. She can hear the despair in his voice. Hears him choke. Hears the faint, wracking sobs as he tries to continue what he is trying to say. "He's...gone..."

Rachel's heart stops cold. "What do you mean?" she whispers, heart starting to pound against her chest. Her hands have grown clammy.

"He...passed away last night, sweetie...in his sleep...He'd come home from his Bridge Club complaining about a pain in his chest...but he said it had gone away and he went to sleep and this morning...he just...never woke up..."

As Hiram starts to cry on the phone, Rachel finds her eyes grow watery, the people around her grow blurry.

Her father is dead.

Her father is gone and dead.

Without meaning to or wanting to, tears form in Rachel's eyes.


	2. Chapter 2

Rachel would have noticed the old man in a dark suit and would have known exactly what he is thinking minutes before he actually approaches her towards the end of the ceremony and asks for her number, if she hadn't been too busy watching Santana talking to a tall, beautiful olive-skinned woman by the name of Aisha Stevens who Santana claims is a former co-worker.

She would have ignored the man, had she not caught Santana exchanging smiles and silent laughter with the woman, a woman that Santana seems to be spending a lot of time with, that when the old man approaches her she entertains him. The subtle glare Santana sends her way across crowds of similarly dark-suited men and women, come to attend her father's funeral ceremony and extend their condolences and sympathies, almost seems worth it.

Their friends, Kurt and Sam Mike and his ex-wife, Tina and their children, Blaine Anderson, civil with Kurt, as well as other members of their Glee Club and high school – Mercedes, Puck, Artie, Karofksy and of course, Quinn, with husband Jeffrey and son Aidan, in tow, Quinn's shrewd eyes looking from Rachel to Santana and back, lips pursed together and one eyebrow raised, looking as if she is about to say something but realizing that a funeral ceremony would not be the best place to voice out whatever she is thinking.

It had been a whirlwind few days for Rachel. She'd canceled appointments, moved her surgery back even further, went back to Lima to make arrangements for the funeral. Her father had taken care of everything else, down to what refreshments to serve the guests visiting them at the house. Hiram had been distraught and upset and sedated at first, but taking care of everything had helped. He'd known for quite some time that his husband was dying, and had claimed he was preparing for it, but the actual impact of his death had been hard for her father and he'd spent the first few days either in his room, grieving, or staring out into nothingness, speaking of days gone by. Santana had insisted on coming and after taking care of more pressing matters, had followed her to Lima a few days after she goes home herself. Suzie, Blue, Kate, the grandchildren, Beans and Cody, come after.

The man checking Rachel out approaches her now and says, "I'm sorry for your loss."

Rachel smiles. "Thank you."

"I lost someone, too," the man says. "My wife."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"Yes...she died of vagitotis or something," the man continues. "It's like bad breath, but like in the vagina."

Rachel makes a face.

The man laughs. "I thought she'd never die!"

Rachel just stares at him, appalled.

The man continues, "And now...I'm a free man! Free, I tell ya! Free!" He turns to Rachel then and says, "My name is Jack Walters. You don't know me, but I've loved you my whole life. Ever since I saw you in that play where everybody has AIDS...I've loved you...What would I have to give you to make you kiss me?"

A voice from behind her answers for her. "Chloroform?"

Jack ignores the voice of Quinn as he continues, "I'm a pretty self-depreciating guy...and I'm pretty clean...but I had this thing in my penis once, and I put lemon juice on it so it's all cleared up now...I know I may be too old to stir the gumbo, but I can still lick the ladle..."

Rachel stares at him. "What does that even mean?"

Quinn sighs then and says, "Mister, I don't mean to be rude, but she's not interested, she votes Democrat. You probably vote Republican. She hates Republicans."

The old man looks at Rachel, confused and disappointed, before he tries to speak up again. "Marry me? I have my own bus pass..."

Rachel smiles. "Well, how can I refuse?" she jokes.

A blond-haired young woman comes up and says, "Grandpa, I told you, leave the nice lady alone." She turns and apologizes to Rachel. "I'm sorry. Grandpa's eighty five but he still likes his pretty ladies..."

Rachel nods. "It's alright."

The blond woman smiles. "I'm Kitty by the way. Grandpa was bridge partners with your dads..."

"She's not in the market, grandpa," Quinn says.

Jack grins, leans over and asks Rachel, "Wanna skip this party and play strip bingo outside?"

Kitty gives Rachel an embarrassed smile and says, "_Really_ sorry." She gently grabs his grandfather's elbow and leads him away from Rachel.

As they walk away, the grandfather tells his granddaughter, "I'm hungry. Let's get some chicken breast. Any breast really is fine."

Quinn folds her arms in front of her and watches them leave. "He isn't too bad. I mean he's old enough to remember the Truman administration, but that's fine."

Rachel scowls at her. Quinn looks at her and asks, "What? You're not getting any, might as well be that man."

Rachel blushes. "That's low, Quinn."

Quinn only grins.

Beans comes up, holding Mercedes' hand, looking perplexed, as she says, "Yes, but how's that minor pause?"

Beans spots Rachel and grins. "Hi, granma! What's a minor pause?"

Rachel smiles at her and gives her a hug. "Hey, you. What have you been up to?"

"The bathroom," Beans answers.

Mercedes smiles. "Yes, your bathroom has remarkable acoustics."

Quinn smiles. "We heard."

Beans grins. "The nozzles and spigots are all polite to each other. It's pretty awesome. What's a minor pause?"

"Yes, no doubt about it, that kid's your grandkid," Mercedes says, shaking her head.

Rachel smiles at her. Mercedes smiles back. Then she says, "Rachel, if there's anything, absolutely anything you need, you know you can count on me. Just give me a call, alright?"

Rachel nods.

Kurt comes up to them and Quinn takes one look at him and says, "Kurt...why are you wearing a snorkeling shirt to a funeral like you're doing seventh-period SeaWorld training or something?"

Kurt glares at her. "Shut up. This is called fashion."

Quinn smirks. "Says who?"

"Dolce and Gabbana."

Quinn rolls her eyes. "Whatever."

They all stop when they see Sam again, but this time with a dark-haired young woman who looks a few years younger than him. Rachel notes that the woman locks eyes with the blond woman they'd been talking to earlier, Kitty. Kitty is glaring at her, but the young woman ignores her.

Quinn narrows her eyes. "Who is _that_?" She motions to Sam and the woman.

Mercedes makes a face. "Sam's fiancee or whatever."

"Sam's getting _married_?" Quinn asks, incredulous.

Mercedes nods. "Oh, yes." Sam spots them and waves at them. As he pulls the woman towards them in what they think is an effort to introduce her to them, Mercedes whispers, "Apparently, she had a...'unique constellation of attributes'..."

Rachel smiles. "I'll bet." Rachel tilts her head. "She looks nice. Cute."

Quinn rolls her eyes. "She has the lips of a duck."

Beans grins. "Or a duck's vagina!"

"Beans!" Rachel chides her. "What did we say about saying bad things about people?"

"That we only do so when nobody can hear us, grandma!" Beans says triumphantly.

Rachel sighs. "I don't even know why I even bother."

"She looks old enough to be his _granddaughter_," Mercedes observes.

They see Sam kiss his girlfriend on the forehead and Quinn makes a face. Quinn says, "Ugh. I think I'm going to be sick...I'm getting nauseated..."

Sam hears the last word and grins. "Nauseated? Hey, That's what it was like when I met Marley. Anyway that's what I..."

The woman, Marley, gives him a funny look. "I made you nauseous?"

Sam grins sheepishly. "In a good way - I was lovesick. And...I don't mean to be rude, but Rachel keeps telling me it's '_nauseated_', not nauseous..."

Marley smiles. "Did she?"

Sam nods. "Yes." He then turns to each one and introduces them.

Quinn quirks an eyebrow. "So where did you two kids meet?"

Sam grins. "Thought you'd never ask!" he replies excitedly. "I had this whole plan where I was supposed to meet girls in these places..."

"Bars," Mercedes offers.

"Clubs," Quinn offers.

"Supermarkets, grocery stores, bowling alleys..." Rachel adds, ticking off each one with her fingers. "Libraries, museums, galleries..."

"Like some kind of serial dater or killer or something," Quinn comments. "Really creepy. And don't even get me started on your thing with Tinder and Craig's List..."

Sam blushes. "_Anyway_, I thought a great place to meet girls would be night school, you know, where they teach English as a second language? You know, because these girls would be from foreign lands and, you know, maybe still a little disoriented from the journey and I would look attractive because... I speak English very goodly. But in the end it did not work out as I had hoped, I mean, basically I was told to take a hike in fourteen languages..."

Quinn looks at him impatiently. "So I'm assuming you _didn't _meet her at a night school."

Sam shakes his head. "No. I actually met her at a morgue."

This is met by complete silence. After a heartbeat, Quinn says, "Wow, just when I think it couldn't get any weirder with you, you take it to the next level..."

Hiram approaches them all and everyone,save for Rachel, says, "Hey, Mr. Berry" before each one launches into their condolences.

Hiram nods and smiles, thanks everyone before he says, "Can I please talk to Rachel?"

Rachel nods, excuses herself and follows Hiram to the library at the back of the house.

* * *

><p>When Hiram closes the door, Rachel says, "What's up, dad?"<p>

He smiles, runs his hand on his face and smiles. "Uh...How are you holding up?"

"I'm fine, how are you holding up?" Rachel replies with a smile.

"I'm uh...good, honey, good," he says. He motions for Rachel to sit down as he sits on the couch.

Rachel sits beside him.

Hiram looks at her for a few moments before he reaches into the inside pocket of his jacket, pulls out an envelope and hands it to Rachel.

"What's this?" Rachel asks as she takes the folded pages of paper out of the envelope and opens them.

"It's...uh...your father's will," Hiram explains.

Rachel scans the first page before turning to the next pages, running her eyes through the words. She looks up at her father then and says, "Dad..."

Hiram's eyes are welling up. "Yes. We've decided to sell the house, with your daddy gone and you in New York, there isn't really anything left for me here. I'm thinking of moving somewhere warm and sunny. Lima's too cold for me as it is...But whatever we get for the house, you're getting a part of it, plus the car, the Dodge, whatever's left in our bank account..."

"Dad...this is a bit too much," Rachel says.

"Honey, I probably don't have much time left either. I don't know how I can go on with your father gone..."

"Dad...don't say that..."

Hiram shakes his head. "No, no, honey, it's fine," he interrupts. "I've lived a long life. I'm tired and it hurts when I pee..." Rachel laughs at that. "And I've lived long enough to see you grow and get married and have kids and grandkids of your own...it's enough..." He smiles at Rachel.

"Don't worry, I won't kill myself before my time," he assures her. "Although I hope to die in my sleep."

"Dad, don't be so morbid."

"I'm not being morbid, I'm just being practical. Okay?"

"Okay."

"Okay then," he says. "Now that that is out of the way, there's this little matter of your father..."

* * *

><p>Blue is looking out into the backyard as she stands on the back porch of the Berry house when her phone rings. She answers the call.<p>

"Hey, Jim, what's up?" she says. She stops, listens, replies. "Oh, okay." She listens again, "No, it's fine, dude. It's really fine...it's just...I was _really_ looking forward to that gig, man...I haven't had a job in _ages_...Need the cash, man...No, it's fine. It's not your fault. I'll be fine, man. L.A.? I don't know...I could...I'm not sure...Thanks anyway."

Blue cuts the call, shoves her phone in the pocket of her jeans, looks out at the view one more time and takes a deep, long breath. She stands outside for a few minutes before she gets back inside.

* * *

><p>Suzie watches as Kate packs their children's luggage, whilst Beans and Cody play on the floor of their room.<p>

"You sure you don't want to stay one more night?" Suzie finally asks after a silence.

Kate shakes her head. "No. I need to get back to the city, I've got some projects to do and..."

"Do you want me to drive you to the station?"

"No, I've called a cab. Stay, it's fine. Your mom needs you."

Suzie nods. "Okay."

Kate closes the luggage and looks up. "Okay."

They stand there in silence, not knowing what to say. "It's for the best, Suzie."

Suzie nods again. "Yeah."

"We've done all that we can, it's time maybe we try something else," Kate continues. "The kids are spending some time at Jimmy's..."

"Jimmy's?" Suzie asks. "Really, Kate? Really?"

Kate just looks at her and sighs. "Suzie, don't start. I'm tired and..."

"I'm sorry..."

"John's going to call for the details," Kate reminds her. "I'll see you when you get back?"

"Okay."

There is a silence between them. Kate chooses to break it. "You know you'll always be the kids' mother, right? You're always welcome to visit them..."

Suzie nods.

"Do you...have a place to stay when you get back?"

"Yeah. I'm crashing at my friend's place. I'm looking at some apartments over at the East Side..."

"That's good. I'll see you, okay?"

* * *

><p>Santana stands by the doorway, arms folded in front of her, watching her ex-wife fold and unfold clothes and putting them in her pink luggage. Like Rachel, her long, wavy hair is now streaked with more white and gray than black, there are more lines on her face, veins on her arms and legs, a little more weight on her frame, but in her prescription glasses and in her blouse and pants, she still looks beautiful. She also looks the way she always looks when she is irritated with Rachel but doesn't want the conversation to escalate too fast into another argument.<p>

"Explain this to me again like I'm a five year old, Rachel," Santana begins. "What exactly are you doing?"

Rachel slams her luggage down and zips it closed with a sigh. "I've told you already. It was my dad's dying wish."

Santana raises her hand, palm up. "Yeah, I get that. Fine. Whatever. I just don't see why you have to do all this..."

"What?"

Santana throws up her hands. "Why you have to drive all the way there! You don't even drive! Plus I'm pretty sure there's some felony you're committing planning to desecrate a place like that..."

Rachel looks at her and sighs. "We're not desecrating anything. Plus, my dad always wanted to go. He just never had the time what with me and everything else that's happened. Now he's gone and I feel like I at least owe it to him and daddy to do this. And I already told you. Suzie's already agreed to come with me and..."

Santana narrows her eyes and scowls. "That's almost two thousand miles!"

Blue comes up then from behind and watches them argue. Santana turns to her and says, "Would you please talk to your mother?"

"Mom, don't go," Blue says, half-heartedly.

Rachel shrugs. "It's not that far."

Santana scowls. "It's thirty one hours of driving!"

"Mom, at your advanced age, you shouldn't be doing any kind of exhausting, strenuous activity as..." Blue stops, wracking her brain. "...Driving...?"

Rachel sighs. "Blue...I love you like a daughter but..."

Blue stares at her incredulously. "I _am_ your daughter!"

Rachel ignores her. "Whatever. Anyway, we're still going. Nothing both of you will say is going to stop me. We'll just get some rest and drive again. You talk as if it's like some big, insurmountable task that we'll never accomplish."

"It's going take you forever to get there!"

Rachel rolls her eyes. "I'm going. _We're_ going. Get over it, alright. Mr. Hummel's checked the car, it's still working alright, we're safe as a box of kittens in it. Besides, why do you care? We're not married anymore, so get off my back."

Santana glares at her. "That's low, Rachel. Even for you."

Rachel sighs. "Look. It's just really important for me and my father that I do this, alright? We're going to be fine, and we promise not to get into trouble, and we'll be back before you know it, okay? Just, take it easy."

Santana just stares at her in disbelief.


	3. Chapter 3

**_Nobody promised a happy end._**

**_Nobody said the story is told._**

**_Till the last page is turned,_**

**_Nobody knows_**

**_If it's good or it's bad,_**

**_If it's new, if it's old._**

**_It's all happened before,_**

**_Betrayal and sorrow, _**

**_Redemption and grief,_**

**_And a hope for tomorrow._**

**_- Vicky Austin, "Troubling a Star" (Madeleine L'Engle)_**

Santana and Quinn watch Rachel and Suzie as they haul their luggage into the old Berry car. Quinn's arms are folded in front of her as Santana is eating the last of her apple. Beside the car is a yellow cab, the cab driver loading luggage as well, Kate beside the car as Suzie comes over and talks to her, and the children, Beans and Cody, rush out screaming and laughing, Cody jumping up to Rachel and Beans to Suzie as they all say goodbye to each other. It is a warm morning, the sun shining on a bright, blue sky.

Quinn looks up at the sky, squints and looks back at Santana. "So, what are you going to do?" Quinn finally asks.

Santana briefly looks at her. "What, you mean after I finish this apple? Or before?"

Quinn scowls. "You know what I mean."

Santana shrugs. "Dunno."

Quinn sighs. "You're not going?"

"She didn't ask me to."

"And you're just going to...lie down and take it?"

Santana rolls her eyes. "You weren't there when she was saying, 'We're not married...Get over it...'"

Quinn grins. "Sassy Rachel. I like it. So you're just letting her go?"

There is a silence after this. Beans and Cody bound up to her then and hug her again and say goodbye, the cab driver honks impatiently, Suzie, Kate and Rachel say their goodbyes, Blue comes out at the last minute to give everyone a hug and finally, Kate, Beans and Cody are in the cab and driving off. Santana and the others wave them off from the house. Santana feels a pang of loss, missing her grandchildren already. Kate has to go back to New York for work, and since Suzie has to accompany Rachel on her great big project, the kids are going with Kate. Santana herself is going back to New York as well.

"They grow up so fast, don't they?" Quinn asks.

"Yeah."

There is a silence that falls between them. Suddenly Quinn speaks up again. "What the hell were you thinking bringing that lady, Aisha-somebody, here anyway? What the hell was she doing here?"

The vehemence with which she says this takes Santana aback. "She was...passing through."

Quinn makes a face. "On her way to where? Hooking up with you?"

When Santana doesn't say anything, Quinn makes a face. "Oh my god, she already did, didn't she?" When Santana still doesn't say anything, Quinn smiles shrewdly and says, "Was this before or after the funeral? I mean, I get sex and funerals – dealing with grief with sex is not unheard of but...San, there comes a time in your life when that is just gross and tasteless...It's your ex-father-in-law's funeral, for god's sake!"

Santana glares at her. "Fuck you. It's not like that."

Quinn waits for her to explain more.

Santana throws up her hands. "She...was in Washington D.C. on business, she called me up, remembered I was from Ohio, she had relatives here, thought she'd just stop by...I mean, she's gone back to Washington D.C. and is probably on her way back to Paris, okay?"

"Ugh. I hope you didn't hook up with her."

"No!" Santana looks horrified. "God, no."

Quinn nods.

"We hooked up during the divorce."

"Rachel doesn't know does she?"

Santana side eyes her. "I don't tell her everything okay?" As Quinn rolls her eyes, Santana continues, "I mean, she still doesn't know about that one time you came on to me and wanted to hook up with me."

Quinn looks at her incredulously and throws her arms up in the air. "Oh my god, Santana! This is why you're still divorced!"

"What?"

Quinn makes an impatient noise. "Never mind."

After a silence, Santana speaks up. "Rach didn't want me coming with her," Santana explains. "Plus, I have some work-thing stuff back in New York. I did offer, but, she says it's fine. I don't owe her anything, she says and we're no longer married, she says and..."

"She divorced you," Quinn pointed out.

"Yes. I'd love to get _undivorced_ but..."

"Where do you even start?"

"Right?" Santana says. "I know."

"Not like you were the best wife to her anyway," Quinn says, "What with the always working and running away when the times get rough and agreeing to the divorce...and stuff..."

"I thought you were on my side on this?"

"I am. I'm just saying."

"And we had a lot of stuff going on, bills to pay, college – I mean, we sent two kids to college, we had a mortgage to pay, 401ks to think of..."

Quinn nods. "People think relationships are always black and white but..."

"Yeah. It's never easy."

"Yeah. Takes two to make a relationship work."

Santana sighs. "Relationships are _hard_."

They look at each other. After a few seconds, they burst out laughing. Quinn puts an arm over Santana's shoulder. "You okay, though?"

Santana nods. "Yeah, thanks. How are _you_ and Jeffrey?"

Quinn sighs. "Sometimes it's hard...but..."

"Yeah. You know if you ever need anything..."

Quinn smiles. "Thanks, San." After a silence, Quinn says, "Why don't you just tell her you love her?"

Santana looks at her.

Quinn rolls her eyes. "I know you still love her. You have that...mope-y look on your face whenever she's around. It's kind of disgusting."

Santana laughs out loud. "If only it were that easy..." She looks at Rachel then, laughing with the others by the sidewalk. "But yeah, I still love her. I really do. There's been no one else, really."

Quinn laughs. "Ah, your tempestuous since-Glee-Club romance." She grins at Santana. "You are_ so_ screwed."

They continue to watch Rachel and Suzie when a van rolls up in great big coughs of black, thick smoke. Rachel and Suzie cough and wave away the smoke as the driver's door opens and Sam jumps out gleaming happily. The passenger door opens as well to reveal a grinning Marley.

"What the hell is that?" Quinn asks as they both approach the van, curious looks on their faces.

As they approach, Sam catches sight of them, Sam says, "Dudes! Hey! Check out this nifty little Dodge van in the Berry garage that I had Mr. Hummel fix up for us!"

"What the hell is this?" Santana demands.

Sam looks at her as if he cannot believe what Santana is asking. "What do you mean, what the hell is this?" He goes to the side of the van and says, "This, is our new ride!"

"For what?" Quinn asks.

"For our road trip, what else? Duh," Sam replies.

"Did you just say _duh_?" Quinn asks. She turns to Marley. "I can't believe you're marrying him."

Marley smiles. "Sometimes, I can't believe it either."

Quinn laughs. "I'm guessing you fell in love with his washboard abs? And maybe his washboard forehead?"

"His duck lips, maybe," Santana cuts in. "I don't think you love him for his mind."

Sam rolls his eyes. "I love you, too, Santana." He turns to everyone else. "So I've been thinking..."

Santana cuts in. "Thinking? Better not. It's going to hurt your big brain."

Quinn glares at her and hits her on the arm. "Ow!" Santana says.

"Road trip?" Rachel asks. "You're not coming, Sam."

Sam rolls his eyes. "Dude, everybody knows you drive like a fetus. You probably won't even last past Lima. Plus, you didn't really think I would pass up the opportunity for a road trip from Lima to the Grand Canyon, did you? I've always wanted to do a road trip."

Rachel sighs. "_Dude_, you used to live in L.A., that's only a few hours from the Grand Canyon," she points out.

Sam shrugs. "So? It's more fun this way." He pulls out index cards from his back jeans pocket. "I've come up with, like, questions for the trip, like, 'If you could be a color, what would you be?' And 'If you could be an animal, what would you be?' Or 'If you could travel through time, which period would you go to'?"

"Oh my god, you got index cards!" Quinn says, with a smile.

"And post-its," Marley adds. "Which is really weird."

"There's a joke in there somewhere," Santana says, "But I'm too old to make it."

"Oh, my god, this is not happening," Rachel mutters.

"I've got loads of questions here, still. And...!" Sam stops, puts his index cards away, ducks into the van, and pulls out CDs, waving it in front of the other women. "I've got some CDs, too! I burned some for the trip." He shows the CDs to them. "I have the Disney soundtracks, we can start with 'Letting Go', which my niece seems to really like. I got some Broadway stuff, and some hip-hop stuff for Suzie, and some other stuff, too...So, what do you think? Mama Mia first? Or Dixie Chicks?"

Santana looks at him. "A hundred million sperm, Sam, and you were the fastest?"

Sam grins. Sam opens the back of the van and starts transferring Rachel and Suzie's bags from the car to the van.

Blue, who has disappeared from the front yard, now comes up with a duffel bag in tow and throws it on the ground, near the van. "Count _me_ in."

"What are you doing?" Rachel asks. "No. You're not coming. You have work. I can't ask you to stop your life just for me."

Blue shrugs. "I went on leave. It's fine. Plus there's a work-thing in L.A. I want to check out anyway, so."

An old man ambles over to them then, curiously looking at the van. "Hey you guys! What are you doing? What is this?"

Santana looks at him. "Why is this guy always _around?_"

Sam grins at him. "Road trip!" He lifts his hand in a fist pump.

The old man grins. "Jack Walters at your service. Can I come?"

"Um, no..." Rachel says.

Jack Walters seems to not have heard her. "I may not be good at the communication thing...except with my Japanese sex doll..."

"Here we go..." Rachel mutters.

"But I can still drive..." Jack Walters says. "They say I'm legally blind...but I think age is just a number."

Everyone stares at him in confusion.

After a silence, Sam breaks the silence. "I'm kind of hungry. Maybe we could grab a few sandwiches on the way?" Sam says.

"So we're really doing this?" Rachel asks.

Sam grins. "Hell yeah!"

Everyone walks away as Jack Walters says, "Well, I'm not. I'm just going to stay here and guard your van for ya..."

They all go inside and Rachel says, "Maybe we could just grab some sandwiches and get on the road. I'm on a time table here, people."

"Yeah, yeah," Sam says.

Jack Walters opens the back of the van, crawls in and goes over the luggage. The door slams shut behind him. He lies between the luggages and falls asleep.

* * *

><p>Minutes later, Sam is driving the first leg of the journey, playing Alanis Morisette's "Uninvited" on the stereo. Marley is sitting beside him and in the back are Rachel, Suzie and Blue. Sam is, at the moment, singing along with Alanis.<p>

"_Like anyone would be  
>I am flattered by your fascination with me<br>Like any hot-blooded woman  
>I have simply wanted an object to crave<br>But you, you're not allowed  
>You're uninvited<br>An unfortunate slight..." _

Blue leans over then and asks Rachel, "Remind me again why I decided to come with you guys?"

Rachel turns around and says, "You wanted to come. Deal with it."

Suzie says, "An even better question is, why are we listening to this song, Sam?"

Blue pipes up. "Yeah, can we have something else that doesn't literally make me want to slit my wrists?"

Sam nods. "Fine, fine, I'm changing songs." He presses the button and another song comes up, Vanessa Carlton's "A Thousand Miles."

As the first piano strains of the song play, Suzie is silent for a few seconds before she says, "Well, I guess that's a bit better?"

Sam says, "Rachel! Give me a G, give me an A, give me an A minor diminished..."

Blue grins. "Hey, mom..._making my way downtown, walking fast, faces pass and I'm home bound_..."

Sam starts to tap the dashboard and Suzie and Sam join as the singer sings the rest of the stanza.

_"Staring blankly ahead  
>Just making my way<br>Making a way  
>Through the crowd <em>

_And I need you  
>And I miss you<br>And now I wonder..."_

Marley joins in after.

"_If I could fall  
>Into the sky<br>Do you think time  
>Would pass me by<br>'Cause you know I'd walk  
>A thousand mile..."<em>

Everyone glances at Rachel, waiting for her to join in. Rachel rolls her eyes and starts to sing along with them.

_"If I could  
>Just see you<br>Tonight _

_It's always times like these  
>When I think of you<br>And I wonder  
>If you ever<br>Think of me..."_

As they all get into the chorus, Rachel suddenly realizes something. She stops singing and looks at everyone.

"Oh, my god! Stop the van! We forgot something!"

* * *

><p>Back at the Berry house, where Santana and Quinn are saying their goodbyes to Hiram and are preparing to leave, they both catch sight of something standing on the mantle and they stop, looking at each other.<p>

"Uh-oh, I think somebody forgot something," Quinn says.

Hiram does a double-take and catches sight of it as well.

"Oh, my god..."

Then they all hear the doorbell and a knock on the door.

"I'll get the door," Quinn offers.

"I'm calling Rachel," Santana says.

Hiram says, "I'll, uh, just stand here, and uh..."

Santana shakes her head. "It's fine..." She waits for Rachel's phone to ring but is surprised when Rachel answers on the first ring. "Rachel..."

"Santana, oh, thank god, I think we forgot something."

Santana nods. "Yes, I think you did. I'm standing here, staring straight at it."

"Oh, thank god. Can you bring it to us?"

"What?"

"See, we're on a tight schedule as it is, and I need to be back in New York in three days. I have an appointment that can't be moved and that's the only opening I have..."

"Wait, what? You want us to drive to you?"

"Yes. It's really important. Please?"

Santana turns around as she hears voices coming from the hallway. She looks up and sees Quinn, followed by Kitty.

"I'm really sorry about this..." she hears Kitty saying.

She sees Kitty and nods.

Quinn motions to her.

"Can you hold on a sec?" Santana says, covering the mouthpiece of her cellphone. "What's up?"

"You won't believe this, San, but..." Quinn begins.

"But I think maybe my grandpa is in that van your friends are driving...and he isn't supposed to be going around, he has a bad heart and he just got out of a particularly nasty stint at the hospital and...can you just check please if he's there? Somebody spotted him hanging around the back of the van so I thought...it's a long shot but..."

Santana nods, removes her hand from the mouthpiece and says, "Rachel, sorry about that. Yeah, we could meet up with you. Listen, do you, by any chance, have an old man with you? Eighty five, follically challenged, kind of annoying in that adorable bad grandpa way, likes to talk to about his dick? Goes by the name of Jack Walters?"

"What are you talking about? No. I'm not sure we accidentally picked up an old man by that name but..." Santana hears somebody yelp in surprise, a commotion then Rachel comes back on the phone.

Santana listens patiently, before saying, "I take it you've found grandpa?"

Rachel sounds agitated. "Yes! He's in the back! Now we have to return him to Lima! Ugh. Our schedule is ruined!"

"Calm down. We're coming to you. Where are you?"

Rachel gives her the directions. Santana snaps her fingers, motions to Quinn for a pen and paper. Quinn quickly gives her the pen and paper, and she starts to write down the details on the paper. "Alright, we'll see at the gas station then, okay?"

"Okay," Rachel says, sounding relieved. "Thank you, Santana. I really appreciate this."

"It's fine."

"Please don't forget the urn, okay? I mean, what's the point of going all the way to the Grand Canyon if we don't have the urn with us?"

"Yeah, yeah, I got it."

Rachel thanks her again before she cuts the call. When the call is finished, Santana looks at everyone and informs them, "Yes, they have your grandpa, we're going to drive to them now, and bring the urn they forgot to bring with them." She grabs her coat and the urn, looks at Quinn and says, "You're coming, too."

"What? I can't come."

"Oh, you are so coming."

"No, I'm so not."

"Oh, yes you are."

Quinn purses her lips, cocks an eyebrow and says, "Make me."

A few minutes later, Kitty, Quinn and Santana are driving down the road, with the urn tightly clutched in Quinn's hands, as they race to meet Rachel and the others.


End file.
